06/19/2025
I’ve written and re-written this post so many times in the past 24 hours and I just don’t know what to say. Anne and I became friends in probably 2006. She was going through some stuff and I had heard that she was feeling it so on a trip to NYC from Baltimore I had made her a cake that said “Don’t let the bastards win.” She never did. We had a complex relationship and I remember the last conversation we had before our paths drifted was a pretty feisty debate about the merits of catfish. I believe the words “trash fish,” “tastes like mud,” and “cake boy” were used, haha. Anne and I always had a spirited and somewhat acerbic back and forth. I really never knew why our paths drifted but I always hoped that wherever she was, Anne was doing well and was finding some happiness. Then a year or two ago I was at a gala in NYC with my wife and daughter and I took Josephine out to the lobby to give her a break from sitting at a table listening to speeches. We were playing with the marble columns and as we rounded one we saw Anne. Now, at this point we hadn’t spoken in years, and I won’t go into what we talked about but I will say that that conversation left my heart lifted and full of light, for it truly seemed to me that Anne really had found a measure of happiness and love. Life is tough, and we have to be tough to get through it. Anne was as tough as they come, but when you got past the armor there was a depth of compassion and kindness that was absolutely beautiful. My heart sings when I think of the love and tranquility that it seems Anne had found recently, and her genuine smile for my daughter and me in that lobby are what makes this tragedy just a little more bearable. Anne, wherever you are I hope they have slow moving rivers because when I get there, we’ll get a couple of rods, a pint of chicken livers, and a sixer and I’ll teach you how to catch and cook the best catfish you ever had. Rest up, chef. ❤️
